


Blood thicker than water

by Cirilla9



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Fall of Gondolin, Ghosts, Horror, Terrifying Tolkien Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-26 18:32:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12563572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cirilla9/pseuds/Cirilla9
Summary: A lonely survivor wanders through the streets of the fallen city. He meets a lady and rejoice he isn't all by himself any longer... till some shattering revelation.





	Blood thicker than water

**Author's Note:**

> Bonds of family far outweigh anything else, even if this is a call from the Mandos Halls.

Gondolin fell. Once proud Hidden City of stone, built from white marble, which turned from pink to greyish shade depending on the time of the day and the angle of the light, now laid in ruin. Houses were burnt, windows broken, livestock looted. Corpses of fallen warriors littered the streets.

Everything was immersed in the grey fog, the remnants of the fire breath of foul beasts that attacked the city, send by the Enemy. White specks of ashes still fell from the sky, like the grotesque imitation of snow. It was hard to breathe with the venomous air.

A lonely survivor walked down the deadly silent roads, trying to find his way out. He kept glancing furtively at every passing alley, he jumped at the smallest noise which usually turned out to be another loose stone falling from the wrecked wall.

At first he had been checking the corpses on his way for the sign of life but they all laid cold and dead. He had given it up. It hurt too much to see another familiar face of his neighbor or fellow worker without bringing any effect. He couldn’t help them, they were all death.

Then he saw a movement on the street below yet it did not frighten him. Instead hope lit anew in his heart. The figure was tall and slender; a woman in a fair dress walked from one body to another, leaning over them, touching their faces. He sped up to even with her.

\- My lady, - he greeted as she looked high born and he had learned it was always a good strategy to speak with noble titles, no matter if one was addressing someone as cheerful as the princess Idril or as gloomy as that traitor Maeglin; all aristocrats liked the adornments.

She hardly noticed his presence. She raised her head but the look she swept him with was uninterested and she soon returned to her previous activity.

Uncertain what to do he watched for a moment as she pulled up a black haired youth’s face and swept the locks off his deadly pale face, then, clearly not finding whoever she’s looked for, gently left him and moved to another dead elf.

\- Um, my lady, - he repeated a little louder as it became clear she wasn’t going to stop what she was doing, - come with me. We should leave this city.

He glanced over his shoulder but there were still just the two of them.

\- I’m not leaving, - her words sounded cold and distant as if she was speaking to him from somewhere afar.

\- But it is dangerous here! Any time they can come back to loot something more or just check for any survivors in order to kill them, - he kept glancing around nervously as he spoke. Won’t he hear heavy footsteps of an orc? Or the hollow thump of dragon’s wings in the air?

She kept moving with a calm pace, unaffected by his speech. Only when she turned he noticed a stain of blood covering the vast space of the front of her white dress.

\- My lady, are you injured?! – he jumped closer, cursing himself for not thinking about it earlier. – Do you need some help? Or is it not your blood?

He comforted himself it probably wasn’t. Judging by the size of it she should have fainted from the blood loss during their short conversation already.

She looked down at her chest as if only now sparing it any attention.

\- It is mine blood, - she spoke in that giving-the-bystander’s-creeps voice. – But it is an old injury.

He stopped halfway from reaching toward her. Something about her started to make him uneasy.

\- What are you doing, my lady? Searching for someone dear to you? I’m sorry if that sounds harsh but they’re probably dead by now. Come with me, away from this cursed place, or else we might join all the fallen.

\- You’re not the first one who have called me to abandon this place but I am not going anywhere until I’ll find them. I’m looking for my son and husband, - she said protractedly. – Have you seen them? Lómion had shining noldorin eyes, he was so shrewd, he forged all these weapons, - a deserted blade screeched under her foot.

Now the survivor made a half step away from her. Lómion? Was she talking about Maeglin? But princess Aredhel was long ago dead.

\- I’m going, - he said faintly. – If you want to go too, you’re free to join me.

\- I’ll stay.

\- Aren’t you afraid? Enemy’s forces might be back in any moment…

She looked straight at him then and he felt like pierced by the spear himself as she said:

\- I would be afraid, if I were alive.


End file.
